


Peace

by Silence_burns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, q's lab, reader is gender neutral as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_burns/pseuds/Silence_burns
Summary: Visits from friends are fun only as long as you expect them.
Relationships: Q (James Bond)/Reader, Q (James Bond)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Peace

Q’s always preferred mornings over afternoons, at least when it came to work. There always seemed to be less emergencies, stress, and running around when people were still sipping their morning coffees and the world didn’t seem to be in such a rush yet.

People from the night shift swarmed the exits, exchanging tired greetings with the next shift. Q dived into the almost full elevator, the door closing right behind him. Most people left on the higher floors, but he had to wait for the lowest one. Thankfully, no one had contacted him yet, which was always a good sign. He hated emergencies. Working under pressure was something one could never get completely used to, no matter how many times they had to go through it.

At long last, Q entered his personal cave, filled to the brim with half-finished equipment, projects, and his original ideas that had no connection whatsoever to what was expected by his superiors. In his defence, he was given a lot of funds and little supervision.

And peace—Q, having his fair share of experience, had to admit that being able to work on his own schedule, without anyone constantly watching over him, was the biggest perk of his current job. Peace and quiet were the qualities—

“Don’t spill it.”

He jumped, spilling the drink over his hand and sweater. Curses died on his lips when he finally realised who the person lurking in the shadows was.

You laughed, offering him a towel laying on one of the tables. It was covered in black stains.

“I told you not to sneak up on me,” Q groaned, frantically trying to clean up the mess.

“I gave you a warning.”

“That was not a warning, that was part of your plan.”

You smiled again, and something tensed in Q’s chest. He looked away, pretending to focus on his burned hand instead. “I thought you were supposed to rest for a while.”

“I’m resting all the time, even now—do I look like I’m overworking myself?”

Seated in Q’s favorite chair, with your legs on his favorite worktable, you seemed to be as comfortable as one could only get with five stitches and a bruise in a beautiful shade of rotten green covering half of their face. The bandages on your hand were hidden by a long, carefully arranged sleeve of a hoodie. To anyone unfamiliar with your mission’s report, nothing would look off.

Q nodded and began wiping the stains from the floor. “Still, I have a feeling that you were supposed to be on bedrest for at least the following week.”

“I got bored,” you admitted. “I’m not used to sitting on my ass for so long. I didn’t become an agent for that.”

Q couldn’t help but sigh. The towel was being folded between his fingers, shaking only a little.

“Even despite the risks?” he asked and regretted the words instantly. “Sorry.”

A shadow passed over your face, disappearing just as quickly. If he hadn’t known you any better, he might’ve missed it.

“It’s a part of the job, Q. I knew what I signed up for. Besides, what else could I do in life? I don’t have much of a career choice, given my set of skills.”

“You could work here, with me,” he gestured around, the towel wrinkled and forgotten. “It’s safer. And it’s never boring, especially when agents come back from a mission. And with a proud grin on their face hand you some crumpled parts of what once was the device you worked on for 3 months prior, and expect you to thank them for their service.”

“Q, do you want to talk about it?”

“No, thank you. All I’m saying is, the doors are open. Although they shouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure I’ve secured them.”

“Oh, please. Don’t sound like you mind my visit.”

Q sighed. He focused on cleaning one of the work tables to busy his hands. At least it looked like you didn’t touch any of the tiny parts laying in, to his eyes— organized groups, and in yours—a complete and utter mess.

Q cleared his throat. “So, what are your plans for today? Other than annoying me with your presence?”

“I thought about annoying your cats later on.”

“Dear God, did you bring any new clothes for them?”

“Maybe,” a devilish grin split your face. Well, half of it. You couldn’t move the rest yet.

Q rubbed his eyes. It was way too early to deal with you.

“Unless the world decides to end, I finish at 6,” he finally settled. “But you have to make yourself useful here first, and by that I specifically mean not falling asleep in the storage area after I send you to get one thing.”

You pouted, but saluted with your good hand. “Yes, sir!" 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! You can check out more of my works either on this ao3 account or on silence-burns.tumblr.com


End file.
